


secondhand smoke

by TheRagingThespian



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: 2x18 spoilers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRagingThespian/pseuds/TheRagingThespian
Summary: Kara comes back.When nobody else does, Kara always comes back.





	secondhand smoke

**Author's Note:**

> catch me crying over this episode  
> theragingthespian.tumblr.com

Kara comes back.

(And oh, isn’t that a thought?

Kara comes back. Kara keeps returning, keeps slipping through those doors, fingers curling around the frame as easily as her smiles did around her heart.

Kara comes back and smiles and promises.)

“I noticed you’re still here.”

Lena hums, presses her nails just so against her knee to keep the pain there, keep it from her head, from her heart.

(Neither of them mention how Kara knows. How she would notice anything about L-Corp when Lena’s up fifteen stories.)

“I don’t have anywhere better to go, do I?” Kara purses her lips, fingers flattening against the strap of her bag, and oh, that’s too much. “I’m just getting some work done Kara. It’s fine.”

(It’s fine. It’s better this way to work and work, numbers swirling comfortingly around her head rather than- than tonight.

She had wanted to say that loss does _dangerous_ things to her family.

That for most people it scrapes across the surfaces- takes away from them in a cruel way, but it doesn’t-it doesn’t destroy them. 

For the Luthors though, it cuts deeper until there’s nothing left underneath and leaves a place for something sharp and cold to take root.)

“It’s not,” she says softly. Shakes her head, and then does it again almost more to herself. “It’s not and you’re not. _You’re_ staring out the window.”

“He was my best friend.” She wishes the coolness came back- _like Kara_ , she thinks. The creeping numbness that traveled down her spine and to her fingers, that allowed her to override the bots while Jack gasped for breath behind her.

( _It’s okay_ he had said, but it’s not, it’s not.

They weren’t so different. He wanted to do good, _was_ doing good. Until the people he trusted turned against him, twisted him into something unrecognizable. All without his knowledge of it.

She wonders when it will happen to her.)

Kara sucks in a breath, a hand coming to clutch at her chest. “Lena,” she murmurs, quiet and with so much concern that Lena taps down the urge to ask what she wants. “What do you need?”

(She wants to go home, but oh, where is that?

It’s not losing Jack that destroys any semblance of home, if anything it makes it glaringly obvious that she hasn’t had one for so long. Tries again and again to make it out of the people around her.

But then Lex is anger and blood and a darkness that consumes him and everything he touches, and Lena- Lena does her best to outrun it.

She runs to National City. Away from Jack and his, not his love- that was never part of the plan, but Jack was kind and warm and she told herself  _you can do this much Lena_ - his _familiarity_ , a solid presence she could get used to. Until he shows up only to be corrupted by the very bots they coded.

How is she supposed to have a home when people keep leaving?)

“I want to go,” _home_ she wants to beg, says instead, “to sleep.”

Kara’s fingers trail over her hand, and oh, when she had she gotten so close? The pads of her fingers linger at her wrist, stroking the skin there just enough to have Lena’s attention directed there until Kara laughs. It’s small compared to her normal ones, evidence of the time and place. “I think,” she’s never thought the sky could be warm before she saw Kara’s eyes and thought  _yes,_ it could be, “we can handle that.”

(There it is again, that small kindling in her chest. 

 _We_ , Kara says it as easily as she breathes.

 _We_.)

Kara hands her coat to her, and oh, when Kara’s fingers skim the back of her neck to ease her hair up, Lena pretends she doesn’t shiver. “I,” Lena swallows hard when her hand settles gently on her shoulder, “I told my driver to go home.”

“No problem.” Kara grins, and Lena sighs before wobbly returning it. Kara’s smiles are as infectious as her laughter, as her touch. “How do you think I got here?”  


Lena blinks. She had thought they had mutually agree upon dancing around the certain topics of Kara that _never make sense._  “Do you have a driver of your own, Ms.Danvers?”

“Something like that.”  


* * *

It’s her sister. It’s Kara’s sister.

To be fair, she looks as startled as Lena feels when Kara opens the car door. Not even looking, she says, “are you finally done with your nightly rounds-oh.”

Lena almost backs away, but the hand splayed at her back is encouraging. “Hello.”

“ _Hi_ ,” Alex mimics, “What’s-”  


“Can we swing by Lena’s apartment?”  


Alex’s eyes squint, and oh, it’s odd seeing that look on Alex’s face when she’s only seen it on Kara’s whenever she can sway Kara to play chess. 

(She usually can.)

“Um, sure.”   


Kara is very consciously being oblivious. Even Lena knows the constant looks Alex is giving Kara is supposed to be telling between two sisters, but Kara simply gives a wide, scripted smile with a subtle shake of her head.

(It reminds her of Lex. How he would smile and a just so twitch of an eyebrow could say volumes.)

It continues the entire ride which isn’t long- but still- Alex is giving Kara these increasingly expressive faces with no reaction. 

Lena slips out of the car, breathes in the crisp air and feels the tension that had built up loosening its grip. “Thank you for picking us up and taking me,” she falters and waves a hand at the building, “here.”  


Alex shrugs. “It’s what we do.” She casts a look towards Kara that says _apparently_ but Kara just smiles it away.

(Staring at the sisters, she has to agree.

They do pick people up.)

Lena hears _you’re not coming?_  before Kara shuts the door and waves her hand, taking long strides to catch up with her. “You had plans,” Lena surmises. 

“Not really. They just wanted to drink and my job was a good enough excuse.”

“You should be with your sister.”

Kara snorts. “Her girlfriend’s waiting for her, I’m sure she’ll be okay.” It’s the first time tonight that Kara draws away from her, hands twisting together. “It doesn’t feel like something worth celebrating anyway.”

Lena thinks, stepping into the elevator and frowning as Kara stares at her reflection in the sleek metal. “The man you interviewed, he was killed.” She remembers it as she says it, hates herself for the flinch it causes Kara. “I’m sorry.”

Blue eyes gaze back at her, unflinching. “I am too.”

“You were there?”  


Kara stares down at her hands. They clench before Kara blinks back up, a tight smile in place as they step out of the elevator. “Well, here you are.” She’s tugged close against Kara, Kara’s arm curling around her waist while her other hand cups the back up her head to pull her under Kara’s chin. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Stay,” she whispers and- _a Luthor doesn’t need anyone else_ , changes it as her gut twists with _wrong, wrong, wrong_. “You shouldn’t walk home. You could stay, if you wanted.”  


If Kara sees through it, sees through her, she doesn’t say anything. Just, “are you sure?”

Lena lets them both in instead of answering, kicking off her heels to pad over to her supply closet. “There are blankets and pillows here.” 

(She almost offers for Kara to sleep with her in the bed, but oh, she’s held it in so far. Needs the solace of her bed and no one watching and-

She needs to be alone, but not so much that Kara’s presence in the other room isn’t welcomed or needed.)

“I know.” Of course. She never even had blankets and pillows and happy little mugs in her cupboards before Kara. Never had reason to. “Thank you.”  


She allows herself one break, one outreach by tugging at the end of Kara’s sleeve. A slight brush of fingers. “Goodnight Kara.”

Kara hugs her again, and Lena sighs into it. Feels Kara’s fingers swiping across her shoulder. “Night Lena.” Kara squeezes gently. “I’m right here,” she says, repeats it again firmly until Lena has it cemented in her thoughts.

_She’s here, she’s here._

* * *

She doesn’t fall asleep.

She tosses and turns, presses her face into her pillow and ignores the streaks she leaves behind. 

(Cold, cold, cold.

She wishes it was winter. Instead of this heat that clogs her throat, makes her eyes water. Instead of this constant downward pull on her body, her heart, because she can’t- she can’t take it.)

Lena rips off the covers, stumbling out of the bed, and oh, she doesn’t know where she’s going, but she can’t just _lie_  there.

“Lena?” Kara looks over the couch, eyes startling clear without her glasses. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” It’s automatic. Kara frowns, and Lena’s already walking towards her before she nods her head and pats at the couch, “Come sit.”  


Kara’s propped against the couch, her back to its arm. A small notebook sits in her lap. “What are you doing?”

“You’ve got an awesome view. I thought I’d,” Kara’s fingers tighten around the pencil in her hand, jerk to the side.  


“You weren’t sleeping?”  


“I wasn’t the only one,” Kara quips. Her eyes narrow thoughtfully and then she’s scooting back further against the arm and pulling her- it’s more like _lifting_ \- against her front, their legs stretched out and slipping against each other’s. “Try that building.”  


Kara’s warmth is distracting, her chest rising and falling and her breaths linger at her neck. “This isn’t how people are taught,” Lena searches for the word, but it’s so very hard with Kara’s hand guiding hers across the paper, settles on, “art.”  


Kara drops her chin on her shoulder, and oh, Lena can practically feel her smile. “Well, this is how _I_ teach people how to, as you put, art.”  


Lena draws out, well, she squints down at it. A box. Kara’s shoulders shake behind her. “You’re laughing at me.”

“You draw like it’s a blueprint.”  


“My blueprints are beautiful.”  


“They are,” Kara agrees. She drums her fingers. Lena doesn’t point out that it’s against her leg rather than Kara’s own. “It’s okay to talk about it, Lena.” The pencil bends in her hand until Kara slips it from her grip. “There’s no one here to judge you.”

She tries to clench her hands, to feel the bite of her nails, but then there’s Kara again, holding both her hands and not so much as wincing when Lena grips them tightly. “I’m tired of having to make these decisions.” She smooths her thumbs over Kara’s knuckles. “I’m tired of always trying to choose the right thing, and it feeling so, so _wrong_  even if it’s right.”

(She doesn’t regret anything.

Doesn’t regret turning away from Lex, leaving Metropolis and the ties she had there. She doesn’t regret building L-Corp or turning in her mother.

She just wishes it would change the narrative behind their name- _her_ name. Wishes it didn’t leave her with this sinking feeling every time that nothing changes, and she’s going to be alone again.)

“I think,” Kara says it slowly as if she says it any faster and it will escape her, “there will always be those decisions, and we will always hesitate after them.” Kara’s nose brushes the back of her neck, these constant touches building to _I’m here_. “That’s why we have the people around us, to help us forward when we stumble.”  


“Even for Supergirl?” She’s tired and warm and Kara’s voice is a soft lull in her ears. It’s easy to listen to her desire for more, to _push_.  


“Supergirl is scared of losing people too.” Kara’s voice is hushed then. “She’s had to make choices that keep her up at night. She’s seen what happens when she’s not in control.”  


(Kara almost, oh, she almost sounds broken at that.

At what she can become. Lena thinks of red flashes and news reports and maybe she’s not the only one.)

She’s almost asleep when she hears, “I’m scared of who I will be if it happens again.”

She doesn’t know how long Kara lets her sleep until hands are at her back, under her knees and lift her up. Kara makes it incredibly smooth, easy steps and a soft hum in her chest as she steps towards her room. When Kara lays her down, Kara sits beside her for just a moment, thumb swiping under her eyes and smearing away tears.

Lena doesn’t have to ask for Kara to stay, just holds up the covers as Kara wiggles in behind her. Kara curls around her, her presence everywhere. Hand covering hers and body snugly behind her. She still tries to back closer.

“Go to sleep, Lena,” Kara whispers.  


(This time when Kara presses close to her, warm breaths against her temple, she doesn’t hesitate to brush her lips over Lena’s forehead.)

* * *

When she wakes, Kara’s arm is loosely looped around her waist, not as tight as it was when they fell asleep, but oh, it’s still there.

(She’s still there.

It was all too easy to imagine waking up to her cold, cold apartment and remembering last night. It’s easier when Kara’s heavy breaths are slipping under the collar of her shirt, the heat between them sticking against her skin.

Easier to face the morning.)

She tries to turn around as discreetly as she can, but as soon as she thinks she’s in the clear- holding her breath, trying to remain frozen- Kara groans. “You’ve barely slept.”

(It’s something she never thought she’d see. Kara’s hair lit up golden in the warm rays of the sun filtering in. Her voice rougher, a little deeper from sleep as she blinks open blue, blue eyes.)

“Oh, I,” she lowers her voice when Kara’s fingers wiggle into her side, “good morning.”  


“In two hours it will be.” Kara cracks one eye open again. “Good morning,” she adds, like she can’t resist not returning the sentiment. It makes Lena smile far earlier in the day than she’s used to. Usually, it’s not until Kara appears for lunch or her second breakfast for the day.  


“What are you smiling about?”  


Lena curls her fingers into her palm before, oh, she flattens her hand across Kara’s cheek, thumb swiping. “Thank you for.” She laughs, because the list grows longer and longer every day. “For everything actually.”

Kara sucks in a harsh breath, her lips barely brushing hers when Lena leans closer to press a light kiss on the corner of her mouth. Kara’s hand raises into her hair, fingers pushing her forward until their heads are touching and Kara’s smile mirrors hers.

Kara shakes her head, goes cross-eyed when their noses bump together and laughs. “I could say the same to you.” Her smile turns somber. “You’ve saved me just as often.”

For the first time she can remember, she falls back asleep, the quiet that settled between them not lifting as their yawns began echoing each other’s. 

(The fear is still there. That this won’t last, that it _can’t._ It goes against everything being a Luthor has brought her. Everything she’s learned that people either leave or become shattered images of themselves.

For now though- with Kara’s fingers running up and down her back, head on her pillow- she lets herself have this.)


End file.
